Cost of Redemption
by shadowkat678
Summary: Snape wasn't the only Death Eater to turn his back on Lord Voldemort. From his first fight as a Death Eater, to his very last breath, this is the story of R.A.B.


**Prologue: Realization**

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**A/N****:** See notes at the bottom

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Multicolored beams twisted and twirled in the darkness like a deadly lightshow as a mix of screams and laughter echoed through the night. Bodies crashed to the ground as shadowy figures clashed in the smoke, unmoving.

Regulus Black rolled to the ground as a bone breaker curse passed just inches short of crushing his skull. Springing back into a dueling crouch he twisted his neck, trying to pinpoint the exact location of where the spell had been fired, but whoever had cast the curse was already lost in the chaos of battle.

All around buildings burned into charred heaps as red and orange flames leapt into the sky, leaving the scent of burnt flesh hanging thick in the air. It seared his throat as he breathed, gray eyes gazing out in horror from behind his mask at the destruction. Bodies littered the ground, with more falling even as he watched, and his ears rang with the sounds of a mother's screams as her children were struck down in front of her eyes. It was like a scene from a nightmare, and he'd helped make it happen. It wasn't just Muggles and mudbloods. They were killing witches and wizards. Going after their own. This wasn't right. This wasn't what he had been told.

Regulus felt a scream welling in his chest. He wanted to claw his newly given mark off his skin. To run and hide from what was his own choice, but before he could do anything of the sort the young Black was pulled out of his thoughts as a choking curse shot his way. Regulus lunged out of its range only to be grazed seconds later by an unseen stunner to the side, almost pitching over from the pain.

Heart racing, Regulus spun to face his new attacker: a young wizard no older than himself. His expression was twisted in hate as tears rolled down his battered face. His sandy blond hair stuck fast to skin that shone with sweat, and his fingers were white as the wand under them. Regulus' heart lurched as he recognized the face. A pureblood Ravenclaw in sixth year like he was. They shared a few classes together and even spoke on rare occasions. Now they were trying to kill each other.

The boy's wand shot up, it's shaky aim pointed right at Regulus' heart, but before either could move so much as an inch more a spell collided with the Ravenclaw and his body exploded. He never even had the chance to scream.

Warm globs of blood and flesh splattered Regulus and the surrounding ground. Clasping onto his mask. His skin. Anywhere it touched. The youngest Black brother's eyes widened as he felt bile burn at the back of his throat before he ripped off his mask, fell onto his hands and knees, and vomited. The acidic taste and smell burned the back of his throat just as the smoke did, and he could feel his eyes start to water at the sensation.

From across the street he could see a figure he knew by size, shape, and brutal method as Bellatrix. He could imagine the sneer shot at him from under her mask before she went rushing back into the fray cursing anyone unlucky enough to be stuck in her path. He knew what she thought of him. She thought he was weak. That he was a coward. Was she right? No one else was reacting like this. None of the others so much as paused that he could see. So why was he?

Regulus wiped his mouth on his sleeve and tried to push himself up off the ground. Rocks dug into his palms as the panicked mob of bodies pushed past, knocking him back down again before he could make it to his feet. Regulus didn't even bother to replace his mask. He still saw the venomous look in the boy's brown eyes. The pain. The grief. It was the same look his brother had given him when he'd found out what he'd become a part of.

Now, all he could see was Sirius standing there. His older brother being blown to bits by his cousin in front of his eyes. It was all so much clearer now. This was the reality. Not the boyish fantasy he'd dreamed up for himself for so long. There was no honor. There was no pride. Did the others not see what was happening? They acted like it was a game. A sport. He tried telling himself there was something he wasn't seeing. That they were more experienced, but it all rang hollow.

His legs felt like they'd been struck with a jelly-leg jinx as he finally managed to find his way to his feet and watched as the figure he knew by mask as Lucius ran past. Saw the pleasure and excitement in his movements as he fought. As he killed. The acidic taste of bile rose again, stomach threatening to empty whatever was left inside it.

They were all monsters, and now so was he. All he wanted was to make his parents proud. To have respect.

The junior Death Eater dogged another hex fired his way and winced as his foot twisted out from under him, tripping over a hole that had been blasted into the ground, but again regained his balance and started toward the edge of the dueling crowd. He watched as robes swished and wands fired, their light reflecting in his gray eyes. Bitter thoughts swirled through his mind, self-hatred boiling as he was forced to blast a man out of his way, stepping over the body and racing on through the surrounding insanity.

Sirius was right all along. They used to be so close before he left. Before he started hanging around his Gryffindor friends and dropped 'little Reg' off into the background. There wasn't any time for his kid brother after that.

'Then he ran away and left me alone...'

Regulus stumbled his way to the edge of the crowd and almost fell again as someone stepped on his robe. Gritting his teeth, he caught himself on a charred building wall. Everything was blurred, and that's when he realized tears were falling down his face. He'd never allowed himself to cry in front of others. Blacks didn't show that kind of weakness. They were the pure. The elite. The strong, but those had all been lies. He was tired of what he felt, so he let them fall.

If only he hadn't been so stupid. If only he'd listened to his brother earlier. If only he hadn't been so desperate to believe that his parents were right.

He again thought of the Ravenclaw boy. Of the pain. If only Regulus could go to his brother. Then Sirius could tell him what to do like when they had been children, comfort him like when Regulus was six and would go to his brother's room during a thunderstorm, or after a nightmare. Yet if he went to Sirius Regulus knew all he'd find was a door slammed in his face, and he'd deserve it. It was too late. Everything was too late, and nothing he could do would fix it. He didn't feel powerful like he thought he would. If anything, he'd had never felt so hopeless in his life.

Regulus sank back down to his knees as, above his head, the Dark Mark glowed a ghastly green.

That night he came home a family hero. His mother praised him, just as he'd always dreamed, but he didn't want her praise now. They didn't understand what it was like to look into the eyes of a child and have to kill them by their own hand. They didn't know what it was like to watch the life suddenly vanish from a little girl's frightened blue eyes. Didn't know the pain of hearing her mother's screams. To witness her older brother begging to die in his sister's place. For her father give his life while trying to save her.

Would his family have done that for him? Cared enough to put their own necks on the line for his? When he was younger he'd believed that his family knew everything, but now he found that they knew nothing. Nothing at all.

It was almost four in the morning before he was able to escape to the safety of his bedroom. Shedding his stained Death Eater uniform, he threw it in a pile on the floor and put on his emerald and silver night robes in its place before sinking down onto his bed.

Regulus wouldn't be able to sleep now. Too much had happened. Too much guilt had settled down inside his chest.

Then he heard a pop.

"Master Regulus has returned. Is there anything Kreacher can do for his young master?" Recognizing the scratchy old voice, Regulus' gaze landed on the bat like ears and large beady eyes of his family's old house-elf, and a small smile flickered onto his face. No matter what anyone else may have thought they knew about Regulus Kreacher was the only one who was ever a friend to him. Who really knew him. Sirius never understood his like for the old elf, but Sirius never took the time to be nice to Kreacher, either.

"Not right now, but thank you. I will call if I need anything," He answered, and the house elf bowed once before he popped back out of the room.

Regulus was alone again.

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**End Notes:** This will probably be four to five chapters long and will detail up until Regulus' death. I hope you enjoyed reading and please leave a comment if you've enjoyed this fic. Even a few words means a lot! Thank you for reading!


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